


Crooked

by Aryetty



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Character Study, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups Being an Idiot, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups-centric, Developing Friendships, Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned Boo Seungkwan, Mentioned Jeon Wonwoo, Mentioned Kim Mingyu, One Night Stands, Original Character(s), Producer Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Stressed Lee Jihoon | Woozi, just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryetty/pseuds/Aryetty
Summary: Jihoon and Seungcheol’s friendship began in the most ordinary way, but the way it developed was out of the ordinary. They first met in an abandoned library on a dusty sunned Sunday, both looking for a quiet place to take a pause from the world that threaten to suffocate them.So it’s an understatement to say that Seungcheol is confused about how they ended up like this, laying naked in a strange bed in what is definitely not his dorm room. The body that breathes softly beside him is as clothed as himself and, by the mess in the room, they surely were in a haste to get rid of any piece of clothing.





	Crooked

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on asianfanfics  
> The fragments between ¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬ are from the past.  
> Hope you'll enjoy this :)

Jihoon and Seungcheol’s friendship began in the most ordinary way, but the way it developed was out of the ordinary. They first met in an abandoned library on a dusty sunned Sunday, both looking for a quiet place just to think and maybe take a pause from the world that threaten to suffocate them. Jihoon just happened to trip over a floor spread Seungcheol and, deciding that he was too lazy and mostly done with everything, he refused to get up, only crawling a bit so he could rest his back on the shelf opposite to Seungcheol’s. They held the eye contact for a few seconds before both decided to let it go. Somewhere between Jihoon’s struggle to fill his lyrics notebook and Seungcheol’s boredom they started to talk and a few hours later they both knew way too much about the other. It must have something to do with the therapeutic side of telling your problems to a complete stranger.  
At that time Seungcheol didn’t know that Jihoon was the university’s famous prodigy and Jihoon had no idea that Seungcheol was one of those he himself liked to call ‘brain wasters’, a definition for those who had no idea what they want from life and just entered university in order to waste more time and their parents’ money. Jihoon found those fellows irresponsible human beings who can’t really make a decision for themselves. But back then they didn’t know such things. Their meetings continued to happen at odd hours on Sundays mornings, caused by Seungcheol being a strange lark and Jihoon’s insomnias. Sometimes they just looked at each other for a brief moment, a silent salute, before continuing with their work. Other times they went behind the last shelf and talked about all and nothing, just like the first time. They couldn’t be called friends, nor strangers. Their link was strange but it has been just enough for both of them, just what they needed: someone to listen and not to judge. It took almost half a year for Seungcheol to accidentally read Jihoon’s name on one of the shorter’s notebooks and, deciding to keep their relationship fair, to he introduce himself. They kept it like that, a secret hidden amidst many other in an old library. Eventually they saw each other at school, they learned about the other’s identity, but choose to ignore it. They stayed as ‘Sunday friends’ and nothing more.

So it’s an understatement to say that Seungcheol is confused as to how they end up like this. Deciding that moving is the best option in this situation, he shakily raises his hand to lift the blanket. A quick glance is enough to tell him that he wasn’t wrong. He is indeed lying naked in a strange bed in what is definitely not his dorm room. The body that breathes softly beside him is as clothed as himself and by the mess in the room they surely were in a haste to get rid of any piece of clothing. 

The most upsetting part is the lack of memories that swirls around his throbbing head. The headache is nearly too much. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like his brain was squished with such force, but, again, his memory isn’t the best at the moment. Or his balance, judging by the way he ends face first on the floor when he tries to get up. He feels his limbs heavy and uncoordinated, his body drained of any energy. But he has to get up and out of here. Preferably before the pink haired sleeper gains conscience. Why, you wonder? It may be because Seungcheol is scarred since he has no idea how he got here or what he had done. Or because what he had done is way too obvious, but just as conflicting. Why? Because Seungcheol is as straight as a pole and he would have never done that. Or it may be because he is a ‘brain waster; exactly how Jihoon thought, and he is too irresponsible to face his own acts. It may be all of these, but he can’t bring himself to care. He just wants, no, knows that he has to get out of here. So he struggles to collect his clothes from the floor just as silently as his hangover allows him, not caring if he puts them on wrongly. He is almost on his way out when he sees his phone lying near the bed and he crawls to recover it. 

“Let me guess…” a clear voice scares the shit out of him and he looks up to meet Jihoon’s dark eyes. He definitely doesn’t look like a person who just woke up even though Seungcheol could swear that the shorter hadn’t moved an inch since he woke up. Was he awake all this time? 

“You don’t want to talk about this?” Jihoon finishes his sentence. Seungcheol just stares at him like a deer caught in the headlights, taken aback by the calmness in Jihoon's voice. He searches his face for any emotion that could tell him what the other is thinking, but he finds nothing. Jihoon’s face is serene, or maybe somber, and it annoys Seungcheol because he doesn’t know where he stands or what he should do. So he just stares back into Jihoon’s eyes and for the first time since they’ve met he doesn’t feel comfortable. It’s like Jihoon is scanning deep into his soul and the faint disappointment that his eyes show a few minutes later makes Seungcheol feel more judged than ever. Contrary to all of this Jihoon chooses to stretch the corners of this mouth in a small smile.

“You can go.” He whispers and turns around, letting Seungcheol stare at his bare back.  
And as the older leaves the small studio and grabs a taxi all he can think is the disappointment mixed with sadness that Jihoon’s eyes decided to combine with that small smile.

 

The first time he saw Jihoon's smile he was mesmerized, enough to just stare for a few good minutes. It was in one of the early mornings they used to meet. He had just arrived and he knew that it was going to be a ‘talking meeting’ since Jihoon was sitting on the wooden floor. The small boy had had his huge headphones on and was bobbing his head on a rhythm unknown to Seungcheol. And then he smiled, his eyes closed and his face so peaceful. A smile so sincere and innocent, dimples digging deep in his cheeks and leaving Seungcheol out of air and all giddy inside.  
That day he first listened to one of Jihoon’s songs and it left him speachless. He was amazed that such a small boy could hold inside such talent. In the hours they spent together that day he kept surprising himself secretly staring at Jihoon, flabbergasted as he remembered the shorter’s smile and song, hoping for more. For Seungcheol, Jihoon’s smile was something he saw so rarely that he came to cherish dearly. 

Remembering the smile Jihoon was carrying earlier, he can’t help but feel like a string that connected them crumbled, leaving his insides void.

 

It takes Seungcheol a long weekend and endless hours of thinking to decide what to do next. As he walks in the university building on Monday he’s determined to continue his life as nothing happened on that Friday night. As for Jihoon… his thinking didn’t help that much. He just hopes he won’t have to face the pink haired boy too soon. 

His day goes relatively well, if he ignores the boring classes and annoying students. In the end all hell breaks loose at the lunch, as he sits down next to a few of his classmates.  
“Have you heard the news?” Sohyan, one of the girls asks. He shakes his head, along with two more friends, and proceeds to take a bite from his cheeseburger.  
“There’s a new gay dude in school.” She answers, slightly bend over the table, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Seungcheol stops chewing, his eyes darting to the girl, almost forgetting to close his mouth. He feels his brain freeze and his breath blocking his throat. He hears them talking, but his brain can’t really process the words. All he can think of is “How?”. There’s still something wrong… why does nobody look at him? The other four persons at the table are turned to Sohyan, listening to what the girl has to tell. ‘It’s not me.’ He dares to think, forcing himself to breathe and eventually swallow the food.

“They broke up this morning.” Are the first words he understands and he breathes in relief. Definitely not him. He didn’t break up with anyone. He doesn’t even have a girlfriend.  
“How did she find out, anyway?” Areum, the other girl at the table asks.  
“His neighbor told her. Seems like he and Maya are friends.”  
“Maya?!” Seungcheol chokes on his own breath.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬  
“She’s my girlfriend.”  
“I didn’t know you had one.” The smile Jihoon gives him then is strange but he can’t point out how exactly.  
“I might even get engaged soon.” The smaller says and Seungcheol looks at him surprised. No matter what, he can’t imagine Jihoon married. The image is strange.  
“Aren’t you too young for marriage?” he asks. Jihoon gives him the same smile. Is it fond or sad? Or maybe both?  
“We’ve been together for a long time. And even before that we were childhood friends. Marriage is just the next logical step.” Just that for Seungcheol it doesn’t seem logic at all.  
“Are you in love with her?” he asks before he can actually think the question. However, it seems like he hits the right spot because Jihoon tenses visibly.  
“She is… very dear to me.” He eventually answers softy. It’s certainly a vague remark, Seungcheol thinks. His confusion must show on his face because Jihoon opens his mouth to continue.  
“I wouldn’t stand to hurt or disappoint her. I own her too much and I care for her just as much.” He says in the same tone.  
“So you don’t love her…” Jihoon opens his mouth to protest “in that way.” He shuts up the smaller who looks away, guilt gracing his face.  
“Why marriage, though? Can’t you take care of her as just a friend?”  
“Our parents want us to get married. They say we are old enough.”  
“But it's still not something you should do just because they tell you to, you know?”  
Sincerely, Seungcheol doesn’t know why he is so worked up about this. It’s not his business after all. But perhaps it’s because this is not Jihoon-like at all. He’s slightly disappointed that the free spirited Jihoon is willing to let others decide for him on matters as important as this.  
“I don’t mind it, really.” The smaller says, his voice more convincing but still soft. “I’ll do anything not to hurt her.”  
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

“His neighbor saw Jihoon bring a man home.” Sohyan continues.  
“Maybe it was his friend.” Areum tries to defend.  
“Yeah. Because you kiss all your friends up the door, don't you?!” the first girl bites back.

The sentence brings back an unexpected memory. He can feel a small body pressed on his and he digs his head down to taste a pair of soft lips and all he can think is how much he wants more. His face turns scarlet red and he looks at his forgotten lunch to hide it. That was him? With Jihoon? What on earth is happening to him? He asks himself as he recalls the pure lust he felt in that moment. It’s the first thing he remembers from that night and it doesn’t help at all.  
“It’s not such a big surprise.” Jangin, a tall, lanky boy says, his voice dripping disgust. “What kind of normal person dies his hair pink?!” 

A loud screech interrupts Seungcheol’s thoughts and he looks up to see Wonwoo, a boy from the same year as him, get up from the table next to them. Before he walks away, he throws Seungcheol a dirty look that makes a shiver run down his spine. Maybe his friendship with Jihoon wasn’t as secret as he thought.  
He remembers how a few months ago his meeting with Jihoon was cut short because an overexcited Wonwoo appeared, fluttering a piece of paper and screaming “I finished it.” Later on Seungcheol found out that Jihoon often collaborated with the university's resident emo kid. He also learned that Wonwoo is not emo at all, judging by the large, almost blinding smile he showered Jihoon with that day. Was Wonwoo upset at what Jangin said or maybe because he found out about Jihoon? Seungcheol could only wonder. 

“Who was the one with Jihoon?” Areum asks, drawing his attention back to his classmates and forming knots in his throat once again. He can feel drops of sweat on his forehead as he waits for the answer. His eyes obsess over the table’s imperfections, tracing an old scratch in the wood.  
“Who knows? The neighbor didn’t know him, I guess.” Sohyan answeres after what seems like an eternity. And despite knowing that he shouldn’t, Seungcheol breathes relieved. The feeling stays only for a few seconds before the image of a certain boy fills his mind and Seungcheol feels like an asshole once again. That little smile Jihoon graced him with haunted him ever since he left the younger alone in that bed. He can still remember how small Jihoon looked between the white sheets, how fragile and yet stronger and more mature that Seungcheol ever was. And here he is, happy to know that nobody saw him that night when Jihoon’s life is probably shattering into pieces. 

“He didn’t even deny it.” Sohyan continued to relate the story.  
“How do you know all this?” Minhyuk, the last boy at the table voices out Seungcheol’s thoughts.  
“I was there.” Sohyan says and Seungcheol frowns.  
“There?” he speaks for the first time since all this discussion begun. They all turn to him, like they forgot he was even there.  
“Yeah. They broke up this morning in the courtyard.” The girl answers with a small laugh that makes Seungcheol’s stomach twist. “You should have been there. I never saw anyone cry so much and still manage to scream so loud.”  
“The devil didn’t say anything?” Jangin asked. Seungcheol didn’t know what annoyed him more: the mocking smile on the boy’s face or the nickname he used for Jihoon. He knew that many called the small boy like that, but it still annoyed him. Jihoon once had a good laugh about it, saying that he likes it, but Seungcheol didn’t find it as funny.  
“He just stood there until the end. I didn’t get to see his face or something, he must have been really ashamed. He was kept staring at the ground.” “He should be!”- Jangin.

Seungcheol could almost see it, Jihoon’s small body looking even smaller as he bends in shame and regret. Jihoon wouldn’t cry. His pride would never allow him to. Seungcheol didn’t know if he should see this as a strength or weakness. But he listened to Jihoon for long enough to know that the boy was more sensible than he shows. He also could hear what Jihoon said about Maya that day: 'I’ll do anything not to hurt her.' And here he is, ruining everything for Jihoon. But he still managed to feel relieved when he found out that nobody knew that he was implied in all this. The sheer self-disgust never reached this high.

“I have to go. I have to get to class.” He announces as he gets up. He’s lying, but he can’t stand the look on Jangin face anymore.  
During the weekend he spend a lot of time trying to recall what exactly happened. At first he was shocked: ‘How could he do something like that?’ Then he started asking himself how he ended up in Jihoon’s bed. He remembered that he went for a drink, life wasn’t exactly nice to him these days. But from there everything went blank. He even started to blame Jihoon at some point, that until he checked his phone and saw the message he has sent at 3 am and also the calls he made to Jihoon’s number that night. The fact that Jihoon may have taken advantage of him while he was drunk was out of the question. Not only that the smaller would have never done such thing, but now Seungcheol clearly remembered that he was the one that pinned Jihoon onto the door. He shakes his head, trying to forget just how much he wanted the younger at that moment. ‘It was the alcohol’, he tells himself. 

 

Of course, considering his luck, life finds ways to fuck with his day even more. As Seungcheol leaves the school in the afternoon he’s welcomed with a rather unpleasant image. He usually surrounds the music building to get to the dorm faster. Usually the path is clear, maybe except for the occasional smoker or hurried students. Today though, a group of four are gathered near the graffiti covered wall. Seungcheol freezes, a few cold drops of sweat forming at the base of his neck and in between his shoulders. Mingyuk, one of the largest boy in his year, is straddling a boy near the wall, one of his hand circled around the kid's neck, while Jangin smirks gleefully by his side. A few steps away from them Jihoon looks like the definition of rage and for a second Seungcheol contemplates if he should try to help or run. There’s fire in Jihoon’s usually calm eyes. His hands are formed into tight fists, his nails visibly digging into the flesh of his palm, leaving angry halfmoons behind. His lips are brought in a sharp, straight line and his cheeks are painted with anguish.  
Seungcheol can barely hear some mocking whispers that escape Jangin mouth, but he is sure that he heard something like “pathetic” or “fag” and he feels the anger grow in him as well. 'Fuck it!' he thinks as he takes big steps towards the group of four. He hears the boy pinned to the wall choke violently and decides to free him from Minhyuk first.

The noise doesn’t attract only his attention, Jihoon moving his eyes from Jangin towards the wall and then to Seungcheol. For a brief moment the anger disappears leaving space for something else, moree deep, more confusing. But before Seungcheol can pinpoint itthe fire is back and he can swear that it consumes the younger, changing him even in physical ways. The glare he gets is enough to stop him in his tracks because it is obvious that Jihoon's anger has nothing to do with the two bullies. Not anymore.  
“Let him go.” Jihoon speaks and his voice is low and dark, nothing like the smooth sound Seungcheol is used to. His eyes leave Seungcheol to settle on Minhyuk and the boy. Seungcheol classmates snicker, but stay put. The next few seconds surprise everyone present, as Jihoon moves swiftly, suddenly in from of Minhyuk, his knee finding a violent contact with the bully's stomach. The taller lets go of the boy on the wall, his hand find a better use on cradling his aching abdomen.  
“You worthless piece of shit!” Jihoon’s voice is so uncharacteristically low that Seungcheol blinks a few times, to make sure that the one who spat the words is indeed the short male. “If you damaged his throat in any way I will find you and I’ll rip you to pieces, you fucktard.” he growls.  
‘This is not Jihoon’ Seungcheol thinks as he gulps loudly. A shiver runs down his spine accompanied by a slight tremble in his knees, and he thinks that this is stupid, Jihoon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just that the image of Minhyuk still holding his stomach as he grunts in pain tells him otherwise. 

“Seungkwan, let’s go.” Jihoon says towards the younger boy, a hand lifted for the other to take.  
“Hyung?” the kid asks with a trembling voice and Jihoon snaps angrily at him.  
“I said, let’s go! I need to finish that song today.” He explains, his voice a little louder, making the boy startle visibly. Jihoon sighs deeply.  
“Can you still sing?” he asks a little more gently this time and Seungkwan relaxes, slowly nodding. “So I think”. Jihoon dips his head and makes a move for the boy to follow him.

“Where do you think you are going, fag?” Jangin's rough voice has lost significally from its confidence. Jihoon stops, but he remains with the back to them, a hand pushing the other boy to continue walking.  
“Park Minhyuk.” He said, as dark level as before. “You usually have two up to five girlfriends at once. Most of them are underage.”  
“W-what?” Minhyuk whispers, taken aback, forgetting for a moment about his throbbing stomach. Jihoon ignores him.  
“Kim Jangin.” Seungcheol sees the called one wincing. “You used to sell drugs to the freshmen, right? One of them even died last year…” Jihoon let out a sardonic short laugh that makes the little hairs on Seungcheol's nape raise. “I heard the police is still looking for the dealer.” The silence that falls after his words is thick enough to suffocate all of them. And then Jihoon slowly turns around, his face the perfect resemblance of calmness, his iced eyes stopping right on Seungcheol and the latter knows he’s fucked. The eye contact takes barely five seconds, but it is enough for Seungcheol to review all the things he willing has told Jihoon. 

“And there’s Choi Seungcheol.” Jihoon says, a single corner of his mouth going up in a grim smile, his eyes filled with a strangle joy. “the perfect example of an idiotic brain waster. Wanna play with little, pathetic Lee Jihoon? Wait and see when it bites back” He ends, his eyes resting above the older just for a second before he turns around and walks away. Seungcheol stays there, once again watching the smaller’s back, feeling like he just got slapped.

 

It takes two weeks for the rumors and whispers to die down. In the meantime Seungcheol doesn’t see even a strand of pink hair around, even if he hears people talking about him from time to time. The incident that happened with Minhyuk and Jangin has spread like wild fire and it seems to have calmed down anyone who would have thought that it would be funny to say anything to Jihoon. These days they call him ‘the Satan's spawn’. Seungcheol wonders if Jihoon would still laugh about it. Probably not, given the circumstances. 

Two days after the incident, once the pain started to disperse, not definitively, just temporary finding an isolated place on the back of Seungcheol’s thoughts, he realized just what exactly Jihoon did that day. And even if he is sure that the short male words were meant to produce pain, they also saved him. If Jihoon would have ignored him that day Minhyuk and Jangin would have asked questions. This belief is strengthen by the fact that Jihoon didn’t really disclose any of his secrets. The words were sharp, yes, but just because someone he came to care about spoke them, just because when Jihoon let them out Seungcheol knew that he wasn’t referring only to his educational choices. No, he could see the anger of somebody who was left behind in Jihoon’s eyes. The smaller was telling him that he was a coward and Seungcheol knows how true that is. 

Still, he hasn’t seen or spoken to Jihoon in two weeks, so when he is stopped in the hallways by and angry looking Wonwoo and a hard punch meets his jaw he is more than taken aback.  
“You bastard.” Wonwoo hisses, just enough for Seungcheol to hear. “I hope you are happy.” The older just stares in amazement, clenching his palm around his aching face. Wonwoo surely knows how to throw a punch. He moves his mandibula a little, testing how much it'll hurt if he talks, meeting Wonwoo's deadly glare with a similar one.  
“Why should I be happy?” he asks, raising his chin a little to hold eye contact. Wonwoo’s eyes turn into slits as he watches him with disgust, but he says nothing, turning to glance at the crowd that starts to gain around them. Seungcheol can sense his hesitation and grips around a forearm firmly, guiding the other towards the staircase a few meters on their left.  
“Take your hands off of me. I can walk by myself just fine.” Wonwoo argues and yanks his arm away, starting to climb the stairs toward the roof. Seungcheol follows him silently, surprised that the younger is actually willing to talk to him. Reaching the empty roof, Wonwoo makes his way to the edge, sitting down and letting his left leg dangle in the air trough the safety bars. He looks much more comfortable, and Seungcheol wonders how often he comes up here. He decides to copy his actions, sitting down beside the other boy, but letting enough distance between them. They sit in silence for a few moments and Seungcheol distracts himself by watching the walking students five levels below him. 

“Jihoon is depressed.” Wonwoo whispers and Seungcheol’s head shots toward him, his eyes wide and lips parted like he wants to say something but the words refuse to leave his mouth. Wonwoo ignores him, not even sparing him a glance.  
“His parents found out. Seems like Maya was angry enough to tell her mother and everything went down from there.”  
Seungcheol wants to say something, he really wants. He has a hundred questions swirling in his mind. But none makes way on his tongue. A broken “I’m sorry” leaves him and Wonwoo finally turns to look at him, scowling.

“I’m not the one that should hear that.” He coldly replies and Seungcheol bends his head in shame. “Broken things can be fixed with apologies.” Seungcheol can’t stop himself from asking what exactly has been broken, but he doubts that he would like the answer to that.  
“How is he?” he softly asks instead. Wonwoo turns to the view bellow once again. His next words cut so deep in Seungcheol’s soul that he thinks he may start to bleed.  
“We took him to the hospital today. Seungkwan found him in the studio. He was laying there, passed out for God knows how long.” Wonwoo ignores the small shocked gasp next to him. “It seems like hasn’t slept in days, nor eaten. The doctors said that he’ll be fine if he rests and eats well. They also told us to keep him away from any stress.”  
“Where is he now?” Seungcheol hears himself talk, but he barely recognizes his own voice, so faint and broken. Wonwoo let’s out a dark chuckle.  
“The idiot went back to his studio. Something about a song he needs to finish. We tried to stop him, but he said that his parents should arrive one of these days and he has to be home.”  
“You left him go by himself?” the older asks, his tone more accusing than he meant. Wonwoo tenses and his voice turns just as defensive.  
“Seungkwan went with him. Of course we didn't left him alone after all this. Unlike someone else.”  
A tense silence falls once again, Seungcheol preoccupied by his thoughts and Wonwoo leaving him to be eaten by his guilt. 

“How are you?” Are the next words spoken, God knows how many minutes later.  
“What?” Seungcheol asks, surprised by the question. Wonwoo sighs.  
“You look almost as bad as Jihoon.”  
“I-I’m fine.” Seungcheol answers, still taken aback. His answer draws another long sigh from the other.  
“You two are just the same, you know? Just be careful.” Wonwoo says as he gets up and makes his way to the stairs.  
“Jihoon tried so hard to protect you, don’t waste his efforts.”

 

Wonwoo's last words float in the air a long time after he leaves. They fly around Seungcheol’s nightmares in the following nights and haunt him in the daytime just a like a broken melody that keeps going on and on. Sometimes it is accompanied by the soft ‘You can go then’ Jihoon said that morning. Or the look of rage and disgust from the last time he saw him. It drives Seungcheol crazy and he sometimes finds himself wondering why it affects him so much. The answer seems to be so close, but for some reason he can’t reach it. He ends up sitting in the corner of his room, eyes staring at a wall for hours until exhaustion catches him and he falls in a slumber for a few fours just to wake up to the same dilemma. What should he do? He has no idea. What he knows is that he wants to see Jihoon. Only for a few seconds even, just to assure himself that he is fine. 

That’s how ends up in front of the library, their library. It’s Sunday, only 7 am. But he hopes to get there before Jihoon and maybe hide somewhere. He is still a coward, but he really needs to see the pink haired boy. For his own sanity if nothing else. Just that the library in not opened yet so he just sits on the bench in from of the building and waits for another fifteen minutes until he sees the librarian assistant approach. What was his name again? Soonmin? Seoksoon? Seokmin? Seungcheol sees him rarely, maybe because the bright kid usually sleeps on his shift. When he doesn’t, he just walks around the library, putting books back in place, cleaning up or talking on the phone way too loud, always with a big smile on his face. To Seungcheol Seokmin looks like the happiest human he ever met.  
Maybe just not in this morning. As Seokmin sees him his smile drops low, his eyes suddenly darkening. It’s strange, he looks like a whole different person as he makes his way to the door and starts unlocking it.  
“I don’t think you should come here anymore.” Seungcheol hears him talk, his voice cold as ice.  
“What?” he asks, dumbfounded. Seokmin turns around to face him, his stare hard and face serious.  
“Jihoon hyung doesn’t come here anymore and I know it’s your fault. You should leave.” The younger says merciless.  
“He doesn’t come anymore?” he repeats Seokmin’s words. The other nods.  
“You know, hyung used to come here almost daily, it was the place where he used to work. But I haven’t seen him in weeks. I heard what happened from Seungkwan a few days ago.” He states, his voice flat as he makes his way inside. Seungcheol wonders just how many people actually know. For a person who looked so lonely, Jihoon proves to have a lot of friends.  
“As I said, you shouldn’t come here any longer.” Seokmin closes the door after him, leaving Seungcheol in the cold, but the chills on his skin are not caused by the wind.

He does see Jihoon that day, but not how he expected. Three hours have pasted midnight and he can’t sleep, something he usually doesn’t occur, but it seems to be happening way too often in the last weeks. He is still in the sweatpants and the t-shirt that he sleeps in when he leaves his room, thinking to just walk around the dorm since outside is too cold, January being pretty chilly this year.  
As he passes by the second floor, he catches a pink flash with the corner of his eye. He quickly turns his body around and yes, he saw right. There is Jihoon entering a room with a box in his arms. Seungcheol stares, mouth agape, as the short boy slightly closes the door with his foot. It takes him almost ten seconds to react and he immediately approaches the room. What is Jihoon doing in the dorms? Whose room is that? And it’s the middle of the night too. His thoughts run and clash into each other and, an unknown feeling constricting his stomach and making his blood rush into his veins. A horrible though passes his mind and he cringes. That can’t be right!? Jihoon wouldn’t do that! 

“Leave.” A quiet voice says from behind him and Seungcheol turns around and stumbles a few steps, his hand gripping the front of his shirt, feeling his heart going crazy. It’s the boy that was the last time with Jihoon, Seungkwan?, with a cardboard box in his hands, his face decorated with a frown. He lets out a relieved breath, the kid scarred the shit out of him.  
“What is Jihoon doing here?” he asks just as quietly. The frown on Seungkwan’s face deepens and he moves around Seungcheol, towards the room in which Jihoon entered.  
“He moves in with me.” He answers. “His parents threw him out.” He enters and closes the door after him. Seungcheol hears him locking it and he’s left outside for the second time that day.

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“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes wide as he stares at a seemingly detached Jihoon.  
“They don’t know.” The smaller answers with a small shrug, his eyes not leaving the paper he scribbles on since he arrived.  
“Then what do they think you are doing?”  
“Business.” The reply is short, but Seungcheol can see Jihoon grimace at the word.  
“You are graduating in a year.”  
“Yeah. I know.” Jihoon gives him that smile he usually uses when Seungcheol says something stupid or unnecessary.

“What are you gonna do when on you certificate will state that you aren’t finishing business? Don’t you think they’ll observe?” Jihoon chuckles at the sarcasm in Seungcheol’s voice and shrugs his shoulder a bit.  
“I’ll deal with it then. Or maybe never. They are not the type to come to my graduating ceremony or something. Hopefully I’ll find a job until then.”  
It leaves Seungcheol perplexed. “Just… how?” he asks with a small voice, more for himself that for the other. Jihoon looks up at him for a brief second and lets out a small laugh. Seungcheol's heart misses a beat.  
“You face if funny.” Jihoon states before his serious look comes back and he starts to answer Seungcheol’s question.  
“I just wanted to do what I want, but I knew that they won’t agree with it. Me doing business in university was like a certainty since always. I didn’t want to argue with them. You know, my parents aren’t bad people. They always made sure I had everything I needed and, even if they weren't there all the time, they made sure to show that they loved me. I guess I didn’t want to lose them.”  
“Maybe they would have understood.” Seungcheol’s small voice brings a smile just as small on Jihoon’s face.  
“They wouldn’t, I know it. It’s like how you know that… I don’t know, you don’t like spinach or that I love music.”  
“I love spinach.”  
“That’s not the point.” - a glare. “What I want to say is that they wanting me to do business was a fact. It didn’t need to be proved, it was just a general truth.” There’s silence for a few minutes, the information roiling in Seungcheol’s mind. To him it’s still unbelievable.  
“What if they find out?”  
“I told you, I’ll deal with it then. But they won’t find out. Nobody that could be connected to them knows.”  
“What about Maya?”  
“Maya wouldn’t tell them. She understands me. And beside that, I trust her.” The knowing smile Jihoon has sported back then seemed so sure.  
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“Maya told them that he’s taking music production as a major.”  
Seungcheol and Wonwoo are on the roof once again. Seungcheol is the one that found Wonwoo this time. He wanted an explanation for what happened last night and it was obvious that that kid Seungkwan wasn’t going to give him any. Asking Jihoon was out of the question right now so Wonwoo was his only choice.  
“His parents came last night from New York. Looks like Maya was a little too angry after that incident and directly called Jihoon’s mother.”  
“She told them about his university.” It’s a statement, but Wonwoo nods to it anyway.  
“She told them all.”  
“All?” Seungcheol’s voice is so quiet he himself barely hears it.  
“All.” Wonwoo confirms and Seungcheol knows that ‘all’ means the worst.  
“They kicked him out?” he asks, keeping his voice low. Actually, he doesn’t remember when he last spoke loud. It seems like these days he is afraid even to speak.  
“Yeah… they said they are going to sell his studio and asked him to move out immediately. He is staying with Seungkwan until the dorm approves his application for a room. Maybe he can remain in the same room, since Seungkwan doesn’t have a roommate.”

“How are you?” Wonwoo asks after a while.  
“I’m fine” Seungcheol answers and he doesn’t need to look at Wonwoo to know that the younger doesn’t believe him. 

 

Seungcheol’s days can’t be described in any other way than empty. He’s either in class or in his room, but his mind is never there. No, his mind is mostly lost in the past. It’s funny how he never really thought that he will remember such little things. For example, he spent a whole night reminiscing Jihoon’s laugh. He remembers that time when he told a joke, a lame one at that, and Jihoon started laughing so hard that he woke up Seokmin. And it was just so damn beautiful and genuine, his lips stretched wide, showing his small teeth, his eyes closing tight and his dimples showing in the most charming way. From time to time he would even clap his hands, like a cute seal, and it warmed Seungcheol's soul, his own lips opening in an adoring smile because Jihoon was just simply dazzling. 

But Seuncheol’s days are still empty. His classes bore the hell out of him and he wonders what devil pushed him to pick literature. Yeah, sure, he always liked to read and when the university came around, he just didn’t know what to choose. But this is not what he expected and he can’t stop from thinking just how useless all of this is, how he doesn’t know what he would do after he graduates. He wants to talk about this, but he doesn’t have anyone to listen to him. It’s only now that Seungcheol realizes how lonely he is, how he has no real friends and how Jihoon was the only one that ever cared. It consumes him day by day and he sometimes stares at him ceiling, the corner of his eyes stinging, and just wants to scream. 

“How is he?” it becomes his salute for Wonwoo every time he sees the younger. He also pretends that he doesn’t see the pity in Wonwoo’s eyes every time.  
“He’s… he’s Jihoon. You know… even if he would be dying, he won’t let it show.” Wonwoo sighs. “I guess he tries to cope with everything. These days he is looking for a job. His scholarship doesn’t cover his dorm expenses.” Seungcheol only nods, following the people under them. The roof seems to have become their place.  
“Most of the time he is working on something. His equipment is at the library, Seokmin asked his father to let Jihoon move it there until he has enough money to rent a place. In the meantime, he kind of occupied one of the study rooms there. No one uses them anyway.”  
“Is he at least resting?” Seungcheol sees two students sitting at a table and laughing happily and somehow it reminds him of Jihoon and himself.  
“He is sleeping… sometimes.” Wonwoo voice is distant and Seungcheol turns around to see him frowning.  
“Sometimes?”  
“Yeah. His insomnia has gotten worse. We need to make him take some pills and put him to bed from time to time.” The sigh Wonwoo releases is painful to hear, just as his words. And Wonwoo was never one to spare Seungcheol of the painful truth. “Seungkwan said that sometimes, at night, when Jihoon probably thinks that he is asleep, he can hear him crying.”  
Seungcheol pretends he didn;t hear the last part, leaving the wind to carry it away from his mind. He knows how passionate Jihoon is about his music. He knows the smaller is a bit of a workaholic and that he sometimes forgets to sleep or eat while he is working on a song. Hearing what Wonwoo said he can’t help but worry endlessly. He is, however, glad that the smaller has Seungkwan and Wonwoo to take care of him, even though he wished he was also there.

“My songs have color, you know?” Jihoon once said to him. “I mean every song has its color, but I try to give mines something different, so that when somebody hears them they could tell: ‘Aah, these are Lee Jihoon’s colors.”  
That’s what Seungcheol thinks when he hears a few of his classmates listen to some song. He approaches them with hurried steps and looks at the phone one of them is holding.  
“What is this?” he asks them. A girl, Seungcheol can’t really remember her name just that she is quite pretty, raises her eyes from the phone’s screen and smiles at him.  
“Oh, it’s a new group. Their debut song is pretty good, isn’t it?” she asks, all pearl white teeth and flirting eyes. Seungcheol ignores her and bends a little to see the song’s name.  
“Thanks.” he says and he storms out of the classroom, even though the course starts in less than five minutes. He sends Wonwoo a quick text and waits for him on the roof.

“You know I have classes, right?” the deep voice merges with the wind when the younger joins him.  
“I think somebody stole Jihoon’s song.” Seungcheol announces dead serious. “Some new idol group… Seven-something.” Wonwoo large smile takes him aback and he blinks a few times, to make sure that he is not seeing things. Giving the limited hours of sleep he gets lately he won't be surprised.  
“Why are you smiling?” he asks, his anger starting to build. Wonwoo just chuckles as he sits next to Seungcheol.  
“Nobody stole his song. He sold it.” He says. Seungcheol's brain takes a little time to process the information. Exhaustion seems to wear him down gradually.  
“He sold a song?” he asks, just to confirm. Wonwoo's nod brings a large smile on Seungcheol’s face. His face muscles hurt a bit, like they forgot how to actually do it, but he succeeds anyway.  
“And it’s getting pretty famous too.” Wonwoo adds, smiling just as widely. “The company offered Jihoon a job as their producer. He says he is still thinking about it, but I think he's just trying to play hard to get.” Seungcheol lets out a little laugh and a short ‘oh my god’. 

That’s the moment he sees Jihoon. It’s been almost a month since that night and Seungcheol is surprised by how much he changed. The small boy is so much thinner, his face marked by dark circles. His hair isn’t pink anymore, back to a natural shade of black. It contrasts painfully with Jihoon skin that seems to have become even whiter. But the boy looks happy. He is laughing as he walks together with Seungkwan in the university garden and Seungcheol can’t help himself but smile along. He wants to go down and congratulate him, but Wonwoo stops him.  
“Not today.” The younger says and Seungcheol can see that he already regrets his words. “He is so happy now.”  
And Seungcheol smile fades away, just as the warmth he felt for a moment. Wonwoo doesn’t say it directly, but Seungchol catches on it anyway. If he goes down now he will only ruin Jihoon’s happiness. That thought alone makes his heart sting and brings tears in his eyes. He blinks them away, but Wonwoo must have seen them because the younger surrounds his shoulder with an arm.  
“I’m sorry.” He quietly says and Seungcheol shakes his head.  
“No, you are right.” He replies, his voice hoarse. ‘I’ll ruin it.’ He doesn’t say the rest out loud. He doesn’t need to.

That night is the worst of all. Seungcheol doesn’t remember when it was the last time he cried so hard or if he has ever done it. It’d past midnight when he takes his phone in his hand, fingers hovering over Jihoon’s number. He doesn’t press on it, however. He changes the number and calls his mom even though he knows she must be asleep. 

 

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“You know, I think I heard this phrase like a thousand times.”  
“What phrase?” Seungcheol asks without raising his eyes from his notes. He has to finish a colossal essay until tomorrow and he sincerely feels like the paper is sucking his life out of him.  
“Just be yourself.” Jihoon announces in a mocking voice. “My parents said it to me, my teachers, I saw it in books, movies, everywhere.”  
“Mmmh.” Seungcheol hums, knowing it’s one of those things that Jihoon just needs to let out.  
“It’s pure bullshit.”  
Seungcheol chuckles a little and lifts his head to see the smaller. “It still surprises me every time you swear.” He says. “It doesn’t fit your face.” Jihoon makes a grimace and returns to his own paper.  
“It’s just that… how can you ‘Just be yourself’ when you don’t even know who you are?” he asks, frowning deep in concentration.  
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Seungcheol is taking a year off from university. It seemed like his parents weren’t that mad when he told them he has absolutely no idea what he does with his life. Actually, when he called that night, crying and confessing everything he’s been through in the past two years his mother was quite supportive. His father was a bit upset, because it took him two years to realize he doesn’t like what he does, but he’s accepting it. However, if Seungcheol wants to remain in Seoul, he has to find a job to pay for himself. “To help him mature” his father has said.

So here he is, one week later, packing his bags. He doesn’t think he ever felt as free as he did when he signed his withdrawal. He already found a job, as a waiter at one of his parents’ friend’s restaurant. It pays well for the six hours he has to spend there daily. He will work with Mingyu, son of the owners, another plus since he knows the kid since like forever. Just that Mingyu doesn’t look like a kid anymore, way taller than Seungcheol, features matured in a handsome face that draws a loyal young clientele.  
Mingyu was the one that suggested that Seungcheol should move in with him when the older said he is looking for a place. The flat is small, but it’s enough for them and the rent isn’t that much. That’s why Seungcheol bids goodbye to his roommate and places the dorm key on the table as he leaves. It feels almost surreal how things were set so quickly, like everything was just expecting him to make the decision.  
He is not happy yet, but he certainly feels like a huge weight was taken off his mind. Maybe things will turn out well this time, maybe he will find himself and what he wants. But for now it’s enough. 

As he passes by the second floor, he stops. With a sigh, he walks up to a certain door. He wonders what he should do. He’s craving to knock on the wood, just to see if someone is inside, maybe even run and watch him opening the door. He just wants to see him, even for a brief second. He stops his hand just in time, turns around and walks away. Jihoon is better without him.

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It’s been snowing all day and Seungcheol’s clouded mind barely wonders if he snow’s going to drown him. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to leave the bar, ordering another drink instead, even though he clearly had enough. The bartender gives him a strange look as he fills his glass. The thing is that Seungcheol’s life is simply shitty. He made a lot of wrong choices and here he is, in a strange bar at 2 am, drinking over his loneliness. He raises his glass to the bartender once again.  
“Don’t you think you should stop, buddy?” he is asked, but he gets his drink anyway. Looking down, he presses send to the fourth text directed to Jihoon.  
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Seungcheol life is good. The work keeps him busy and tired, enough to stop thinking too much and to sleep at night. He likes living with Mingyu, the younger revealing to be a pretty funny person that also knows when it’s the time to shut up. Wonwoo visits him from time to time and Seungcheol likes to think that they are friends now.  
The visits amuse him especially as he always has to deal with a (fangirling) fanboying Mingyu after Wonwoo leaves. It seems like Mingyu started crushing on him since the first time he saw him, dressed in all leather on his motorbike. Seungcheol teases him about it almost every day, but Mingyu is so shameless that it’s not even funny anymore. What it is funny is to watch Wonwoo tensing and ignoring Mingyu completely or see how, in rare occasions, Wonwoo’s cheeks turn just a little bit pink at Mingyu’s more than obvious flirts. It leaves Seungcheol smiling, but also a little bit saddened at his own loneliness. 

Because yeah, Seungcheol’s life is good, but nothing can really fill the emptiness he feels half of the time. He ignores it mostly, but it always comes back at him at night, keeping him awake or haunting his dreams with flashes of dimpled smiles and pink hair on white skin. And that may be the last part of his life that he should sort out, but Seungcheol is still a coward, too afraid of his own feelings to even think of them. 

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“Do you have someone to come pick you up?” the bartender's voice hardly makes its way through Seungcheol’s mind. He smiles widely and shakes his head. The man in front of him sighs and mumbles something about pitiful students. He feels somebody taking his phone from his hand, but he is already half asleep, too spent to even try to move.  
He wakes up to what seems like a forever after, his head still buzzing, but a bit more conscious of his actions.  
“Thanks for calling.” A sweet voice says and he is lifted from the bar’s chair. “Come on, hyung, let’s go home.” The same voice talks and he nods as his arm is put around a shoulder. He lifts it and runs his fingers though the smooth pink locks, just once.  
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It seems like Seungcheol’s memory has a mind of its own because it keeps bombarding him with pieces of memories in the most unexpected moments. The drink he has to pour for one of the restaurant’s clients reminds him of all the shots he had drown that night. Mingyu taking his phone without asking (so he can steal Wonwoo’s number) makes him realize he wasn’t the one that called Jihoon that night. And everything pink reminds him of how soft Jihoon hair felt between his fingers. It’s, fairly put, torturous and he has no idea if he wants it to stop or not.

Maybe he is not that straight anymore, he thinks one night and the thought itself scares him. But he does realize that he can’t run away from himself for too long. So he lets it go, he lets his mind wander through his memories, he lets himself reminiscence all those hours spent with Jihoon and, at the end of it, what happened that night doesn’t seem as surprising anymore.  
Because he may always have been a little smitten by Jihoon’s actions, a little too astonished by that blinding smile or maybe he did admired the smaller a bit over the limit. And maybe the loneliness he fights over every day has a certain reason, like missing a certain person, but he doesn’t want to go that far yet. At the moment all he wants is to see Jihoon, just to see him, because it’s been too long and he thinks that Jihoon’s image in his head starts to fade away and he doesn’t want to forget even the smallest detail.

Outside is freezing and Seungcheol wonders when it will warm up, it’s already March. But maybe he likes the weather because it matches his mood. He silently wonders why this night is so full of ‘maybes’. It’s only 6am but he knows it will take a while to reach his destination. He could take a bus or a cab, but he feels like he needs to walk so he does, letting the cold wash him of all the barriers he kept until now.

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“Lets stay a little longer.” Seungcheol says as he watches Jihoon packing his stuff. The latter throws him a dumbfounded look.  
“It’s almost midnight. We’ve been here for sixteen hours.” His voice is flat and somehow it makes Seungcheol laugh. Jihoon joins him a few moments later and Seungcheol is once again caught in the sound, staring in awe as Jihoon’s face is lightened by the boy’s smile. ‘So beautiful’ he thinks.  
“Come on,” Jihoon says after he calms down. “Seokmin wants to go to sleep and we have classes tomorrow.” He sits up and extends a hand for Seungcheol to take. The older sighs and he lets himself be dragged up. Was Jihoon's hand always this soft? This beautiful?  
“Seokmin’s always sleeping.” He grumbles and Jihoon smiles at him softly.  
The thing is that Seungcheol doesn’t want to leave just yet. He feels so content here, in the dimly lighten library. As oddly as it sounds, he feels protected, like Jihoon’s voice, smile, laugh keep the rest of the world away. But he follows Jihoon to the exit, still holding the smaller’s hand. They say good night to a just woken up Seokmin and made their way in the cold night.  
“It’s snowing!” Seungcheol raises his head at Jihoon’s excited voice and observes that, indeed, is snowing. No surprise there, it’s the middle of December, but it’s still beautiful. The night is tranquil and dark, the big snowflakes falling slowly, almost lazily. He turns his eyes to the short male beside him to see him smiling widely at the sky, eyes wide and full of what Seungcheol could swear are sparkles. Jihoon lets out a small laugh, filled with pure happiness.  
“It’s so beautiful.” He barely whispers, like he’s scared he will ruin the silence. And Seungcheol nods eagerly because it really is beautiful.  
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Would have things been different if he would have realized back then what he truly felt? If he would have admitted that yes, the snow was beautiful, but he could see something a thousand times more beautiful? It’s been more than a year since then, but Seungcheol can still remember the way snow matched so well with Jihoon’s skin. And if someone would ask Seungcheol what happiness truly was he would tell them about that day.  
When he reaches the library’s building fifteen minutes pasted after eight. He watches the big, glass door, but he doesn’t step closer to it. He knows he won’t go inside. He sees Seokmin at his desk, playing with his phone, but nothing else. He takes a few steps around the building and takes a seat on one of the benches. From here he can see the entry in the building, but he won’t be seen unless someone looks specifically there. And he waits. The day grows colder and he wonders if it isn’t just him who froze, but he doesn’t move.

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“I’ll walk you home.” Seungcheol says. It’s dark outside and the streets look far too empty. Jihoon laughs.  
“I’m not a girl, Cheol.”  
“It’s still late. You don’t know what could happen.”  
“I can protect myself just fine, thank you. Just because I’m short it doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”  
“You know I didn’t mean that.”  
“Look,” Jihoon sighs. “Just go home. As you said, it’s late and I know the dorm is in the other direction. If it makes you feel better I’ll text you when I get home.”  
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That’s how exchanged numbers. Seungcheol remembers with a smile how Jihoon texted him and told him he is in front of his apartment and Seungcheol got mad and asked him to text him when he is inside of his home, with the door locked, because that’s when he would have been safe and actually home. He should have known back then. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he notices the door of the library opening. And there is Jihoon, hair still black like the last time, but looking a little bit healthier. He has his headphones on and he struggles a bit when he walks, as he always does when he has sat down for too long.  
Seungcheol sits up, wondering when did he noticed all these details, and follows the small boy. It’s dark now, his phone saying that he sat on that bench for more than ten hours, and he barely feels his hands but it is okay. Seeing Jihoon makes everything worth it.

That day he does nothing else but follow the short boy to the dorms, just to make sure he made it safely. After that he returns to his own home, he calls and apologies to Mingyu parents for skipping work and goes straight to bed. It’s the first time he gets a good sleep in a long time.  
In the next week he makes sure he finishes work earlier and runs to the library. Every time he walks behind Jihoon, at a fair distance not to be seen, sometimes he even stays in front of the dorm for a bit longer, he doesn’t really know why. Maybe he wants to go up, but he refrains from doing so. For now this is enough.

 

It’s snowing today and Seungcheol laughs a little because it’s the middle of March!, when it hits him and oh, it hits him hard.

He remembers wondering if he would drown in snow, him and Jihoon too, as the small boy carried him to his studio. He recollects how Jihoon shoved him up the stairs to the fourth floor, how Jihoon skin shined in the moonlight, just like the snow, and he just wanted to kiss it, to taste it. He sees how Jihoon pushed him away, claiming that he is drunk and that he would regret this, how he ignored the smaller and pushed him hard into the door, kissing him just as hard and he can almost feel how contained he felt back then, how happy when Jihoon started responding. He feels tears pricking at the edges of his eyes when he hears himself talk after they finished and Jihoon is curled around him, he hears himself whispering the same words that he is too afraid of thinking now and he hears Jihoon sobbing and stating once again that Seungcheol is drunk.

 

“What are you doing here?” a voice brings him back to the present and he looks up to be met by the same white skin and pink lips he has just reminisced. If Jihoon is taken aback by his tears he doesn’t show it, his body and face tense as he glares at him. Seungcheol is staring, he knows he is, but he can’t stop himself. He has half of mind to pinch himself, but he already knows this is real because he doesn’t remember Jihoon ever looking so coldly at him.  
“Seokmin said he saw you a few times this week. So tell me, Seungcheol, what exactly are you doing?”  
He winces at the way Jihoon pronounces his name, the smaller voice carrying nothing from its past warmth. The boy in front of him seems to notice it and Seungcheol can see his mask breaking for just a second.

“I don’t know.” He finally answers, his voice as quiet as Jihoon’s was a year ago, afraid of breaking something just how Jihoon was back then. He sees anger in the smaller's eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came. Jihoon sighs heavily and takes a place next to Seungcheol on the bench. His body goes limp and Seungcheol thinks that he may prefer the angry Jihoon because the boy looks so small now, so broken.  
“Nor do I.” he hears him whisper and he turns completely towards him, watching Jihoon play with his fingers. “I don’t know what you want either.” The way he says it, all crumbled and sad, it hurts more than the words itself. Seungcheol lets out a long sigh and sets his eyes on his own snow covered hands. He can barely feel them. He shakes off the snow, but his fingers stay frozen.

“Wonwoo told me you are working now.” Jihoon's whisper surprises Seungcheol. He didn’t know that Wonwoo was a double spy.  
“Yeah.” He answers anyway. “I wanted to take a pause, to have some time to think what I really want.”  
“And you know it now? What you really want?”

It’s the first time they make eye contact and Seungcheol holds his breath for a second. Does he know what he wants now? Watching Jihoon in the falling snow he thinks that maybe he knows.  
“I remember that night.” He says instead and he watches Jihoon's eyes go wide. “Not all of it, but I think I remember enough.” He thinks it’s captivating, the way pink colors Jihoon's white cheeks, and he just wants to touch it, to see if it is as soft as he recalls. The younger breaks the eye contact but Seungcheol continues to watch him.  
“I want to talk about it.”  
“Oh, so you want to talk about it now.” Jihoon's voice drips sarcasm and Seungcheol knows the other is getting angry.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, but he knows it’s not enough, it will never be enough.  
“Broken things don’t get repaired if you say sorry.” The smaller says and it reminds Seungcheol of Wonwoo. “Don’t you think it’s too late for that?”  
“I sincerely don’t know. Is it too late?” Seungcheol asks and Jihoon turns towards him. The older feels like he is scanned, Jihoon's eyes seeing through every part of his soul, but this time it’s not disturbing. Actually, he wishes Jihoon could really see through him, he wishes he could read Seungcheol's thoughts because maybe then he will understand.  
“I wasn’t lying that night.” He whispers and he sees Jihoon tensing but his eyes remain on him. “It seems like drunken me is smarter than I am awake. Because drunken me knew what it took me three more months to find out.” Jihoon tries to turn around, but Seungcheol stops him, trapping his hands with his, feeling Jihoon’s warmth burning his skin.  
“I am in love with you, Jihoon.” He states, eyes boring into Jihoon’s enlarged ones. “I think I always was, but I was too afraid to even consider it.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, waiting for a reaction from the smaller, something to tell him if he should stop or go on. And he receives one, a few moments later, but it’s definitely not what he expected.  
“Fuck you!” Jihoon spats in his face, jerks his hands free and stands up. Seungcheol imitates him and he thinks of the lamest thing ever, letting it out before he can stop himself.  
“I think you already had, but I don’t mind.”  
Jihoon turn to him, eyes drawn into slits, anger clear on his features. “You think this is funny?” he hisses.  
“Definitely not.” Seungcheol gulps down, because damn he fucked up again.  
“Good.” Jihoon says and he makes a step closer, entering Seungcheol’s personal space. “Because I don’t mind either.” He pushes his knee up and Seungcheol prepares for the pain, but the push in his stomach is gentler than he expected, just enough to make him fall back on the bench, but not enough to produce pain. 

The next thing his mind understands are a pair of thighs straddling his and warm lips on his own and damn his memories didn’t prepare him for this. Jihoon's kiss makes him all warm inside and churns his stomach in all the right ways and he seriously thinks he could become addicted to this. So he slides his lips eagerly, capturing Jihoon’s bottom lip between his, watching as Jihoon’s eyes close in pleasure and the younger leans closer onto his chest, his warm hands going around Seungcheol’s neck to gently pull at Seungcheol hair. The older encircles the smaller’s waist, bringing him even closer and he thinks that he never was so close to somebody before as he feels Jihoon heartbeats on his, racing together in a perfectly matched symphony. And there is Jihoon breathing deeply into his lungs, leaving Seungcheol whimpering because this is heaven, Jihoon’s hot and sweet breath is even more intimate than their kiss and he wants to stay there, to slowly let himself be drawn into the smaller’s body, breath by breath. That’s why he lets out a small whine when Jihoon pulls away, just a centimeter.  
“You better not forget this again.” He whispers, all wasted and Seungcheol opens his mouth to catch the smaller’s short, quivering breathes.  
“I won’t. Ever.” He promises and Jihoon smiles at him, the most beautiful smile Seungcheol ever saw, as he leans once again to connect their lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this. I'm sure there are still mistakes even if I tried to proof read it. I hope they weren't too annoying. Please leave feedback in the comments <3


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